


It's Time to Go Get Down With a Clown

by sheepyLion



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Bulges and Nooks, Canon-Typical Violence, Juggalo-Typical grossness, Other, POV Second Person, Sexting, Size Kink, Television streaming service and chill, Temperature Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepyLion/pseuds/sheepyLion
Summary: You're minding your own business about a week or so from the aftermath of befriending Marvus when you get a DM on chittr from him out of the blue. Opening it takes you down a pathway you never thought you'd go.





	It's Time to Go Get Down With a Clown

It’s been about a week since you’ve woken up from that hellish trip to Clownchella, where you were almost trampled to death and did… a lot of really regrettable things. Overall, not too much has changed since then, although Zebruh did unfollow you on chittr and you’re pretty sure he was subchitting you for the entire rest of that night. When you dm-ed him the next day he seemed back to his normal, creepy self. That might have had something to do with your profile picture having been changed to a selfie with you and Marvus. It had everything to do with that, and you know it. At least he was alive, even if he was still a douche. 

You’re just chilling at home and scrolling through chittr, not really doing too much. You know when your body just isn’t up for anything, and not even the call and pull of friendship can tug you out of your pile of soft things today. That, and the sun. The sun is a pretty potent motivator for you to stay put in the shadows, so you do.

It took about a week of dealing with the broken bones and bruises and bloodied lips for your enthrallment from the concert to finally wane. Those first twelve hours in the aftermath of that friendgasm are a complete blur to you. You know that you got back here somehow, probably because of Marvus, and that you worried enough of your friends with your new icon and Marvus’s page updates to get someone invested in your health. You’re still not sure who helped you with the medical components of being alive again, maybe it was a joint effort? But you woke up all in one piece, although still riding the high of that concert.

Now you’re kind of sure you’ll never do something like that again, Zebruh or anyone else be damned. You feel like you were acting like a complete lunatic back there, like you were doing things you never would have done under any other circumstances, but you don’t fully remember what you did. Everything was a blur, and it left a sour taste in your mouth quite like nothing else ever has. Maybe nothing ever will. 

You’re still creeping on Zebruh’s feed when you get a dm. It could be one of your friends, but you’re really hoping it’s not Zebruh. That would be a little too coincidental for your liking. You open up the inbox and it’s actually Marvus, much to your surprise. He did kind of seem like a text first kind of guy, though. Chittr has informed you that he’s sent you a picture, only 20 seconds ago. You’re expecting a cute selfie of your incredibly attractive Juggalo pal, but what you get instead upon opening the message is a kind of blurry picture of a weirdly slimy, purple… appendage? You squint at the image and bring it closer to your face just to try to make out more of what it could possibly be. You’ve been on Alternia for a while now, but every day seems to have a new surprise in store for you. To be honest, though, the out-of-focus purple squiggle on your screen could be anything. Maybe a weird kind of food, maybe some drug paraphernalia, or maybe he spilled some faygo on the ground and it made a cool pattern. You decide that the last thing you thought was probably the best thing, and get distracted when your app crashes. That weird purple squiggle is the last thing on your mind when you load your feed again.

Until twenty minutes later when you get another DM from Marvus. Your immediate reaction is to feel terrible because you forgot to reply to his last message, so you open it hoping he’s not angry. Instead of anger, though, he’s just messaged you, “oop lol ;o)” and something in the back of your brain gets incredibly suspicious. Maybe it’s because the sun is in the sky right now, or maybe because your attractive Juggalo friend seems to know how attractive he is, but this scenario strikes you as something you’ve done before. Not with a troll, though. With another human, on Earth. 

‘Is… is Marvus a fuckboy?’ you think to yourself, pulling up the photo again and reaching to remember any details about the kind of clothes Marvus usually wears. Specifically, what kinds of pants he wears. The color landscape around the purple thing that you’re now afraid might be one of those “bulges” you’ve heard so much about on graffiti expletives is just troll skin grey and black. They all wear black on this planet, though, so thinking about this too hard only makes your head hurt. You really hope you weren’t just sent an alien dick pic. Your hopes are dashed when he messages you again and says, “u up little buddy :o)”

You feel like you could die right on the spot. You might have died already. This might be the aftermath of some stupid decision you made earlier today, like staying home instead of going out to look for friendship. You really hope you’re in a doomed timeline. Maybe that’s why Marvus was messaging you, come to think of it. He seems to kind of understand the whole multiple timelines thing a little. Maybe he doomed the timeline somehow and decided that if he was going to die, he was going to have some fun.

You realize halfway through your crisis that you’ve left him on ‘read’, as the kids say. You know very well you can’t just leave a Juggalo on read. You’re not looking for a death wish. You swallow the lump in your throat and reply a simple, “haha yeah, can’t sleep lol,” just to get it out of the way. You hope that will be enough to placate him. You truly hope. 

Despite all of your hopes and dreams, he messages you back almost instantly. “o nice me2” he says.

“u home” he says.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” you type, but then you delete a bunch of those ‘h’s to make yourself look less uncomfortable. After a minute you settle on “Uhhh yeah, I am. Why?”

“you up 4 a lil television streaming service n chill ;o)” he says. 

God. Oh, god. You have to read that one more time just to let it sink in. Television streaming service and chill. God. You’ve never been happier you don’t have a television. 

But then again, maybe… Maybe Marvus didn’t send you a dick pic, and he just wants to have a genuinely fun, wholesome time with you? You feel yourself on the crux of a choice. You could tell him that you’d be up for a fun, friendly-only hang out at your place and you could risk him misinterpreting that, or you could shut him down decisively by telling him the truth about your television situation.

You decide to go with the latter. You tell Marvus you would be up for it, but you don’t have a television. How unfortunate! You’ll write him a raincheck for it, and maybe more of his friends can come next time too? That sounds like fun to you. 

“now that’s just abt the saddest thing i ever heard get said buddy i can send u a lyft ovr if you want," he says.

He seems to have taken your rejection to mean that you were sad that you couldn’t host him, rather than you turning him down. Great. You have the feeling that if you told him that you weren’t up for it he would leave you alone, but part of you is curious and another part yet fragmented still is wondering if he really just wants to have a nice, good, wholesome, sweet, cute, friendly hang out sesh. There’s still a lot of daylight left to kill, too. You look around your room and sigh. You tell him that would be great, thanks.

More and more on Alternia, you feel like you’re going to die here. You might as well see the sights as long as you’re alive, so to speak. You grab a backpack someone gave you and shove Mallek’s hoodie inside, along with some food just in case something terrible happens, then look for an outfit. You were going to just wear the hoodie, but what if you showed up to Marvus’s hive in someone else’s sign and he was offended? That would be a bad idea. If you need it later, though, you’re going to have it with you. You settle for that ugly fucking purple dress you got from Chixie’s show because hey, it’s purple. He might think it’s cute. You kind of wish you had a bathtub to clean up in or something first, but you figure that you can’t be that gross to a guy who works around fans that shit themselves every time they see him so it’s probably fine. 

Hell, you think, this’ll be his first alien. He doesn’t know what gross is. Your confidence soars. You realized that you can go into this with absolutely no shame. But then again, the opposite is also true. You have no context for what gross is when it comes to troll standards. You want to believe that Marvus is a clean guy, but everything you know about him says otherwise. If you survive this day, you guess you can only go up from here.

The scuttlebuggy that picks you up seems like it’s on autopilot. It does the courtesy of getting as close to the bottom of the old watchtower as it possibly could have, and you manage to keep yourself out of the sunlight as you open the door and hop inside. The windows are tinted, and it makes that seem like there might be an industry for this sort of thing on Alternia the way there is on Earth. You get yourself situated and the it starts moving forward, way more smoothly than that older scuttlebuggy you’d stolen and sometimes still use. The whole situation feels somewhat outside of your depth. 

You wonder if you should tell anyone where you’re going, but the shame of what you’re about to do weighs a little too heavily on your shoulders for you to get the courage to admit this little jaunt to any of your friends. Well. You consider subtly flexing your new friendship at Zebruh to make him jealous, just for laughs, but decide against it because you don’t want to DM Zebruh at all when the sun is shining. 

Eventually the scuttlebuggy stops. You look out the window and immediately see the ritziest place you’ve been to, by far. The hive itself is at least three stories tall and looks like one of those hoity-toity summer mansions you’ve seen in music videos that sit empty for most of the year that rich assholes have just for show. It’s kind of impressive, but also makes you feel queasy at the same time. You knew he was rich, he’s famous for fuck’s sake, but the reality of that fame kind of hits you all at once. A sound from the dashboard of the scuttlebuggy prompts you to get moving so it can leave, so you bottle your intimidation back up and steel yourself for the sunlight outside. 

You leave the scuttlebuggy with your backpack and run into the shade the porch provides. You aren’t too sunburned, but that sun is seriously dangerous. You knock on the door, eager to get inside, and you’re met almost immediately by the perfect view of Marvus’s crotch. Thankfully, he has clothes on. The first time you met him, you were so starstruck that the height difference didn’t phase you at all, but seeing him up close again makes you feel small. It’s still like looking directly into the groin of an angel, though. If he caught you stunned by his er… height, Marvus doesn’t say anything. He must have always been the kind of gentlemen who would look away from someone obviously checking him out. 

“Come on in fam, lets get you outta the sun!” Marvus sounds so happy that you’re there, and you can feel yourself wondering why he would waste his happiness on you, but he smiles at you and your brain stops. Being around him in person seems to just have that effect on you. You hurry inside, not wanting to disappoint him. You want him to like you, to think you’re cool. Part of you remembers that he’s already seen you covered in your own urine, but most of you is just aching to impress him.

The inside of his hive is simultaneously more classy and more dirty than you expected it to be. The floors and walls on this bottom floor are made of beautiful material, marble floors and hardwood walls, but covered in spray paint and what looks like it might be dried sopor. Maybe vomit. By the staircase you can see a pizza box with some rank looking leftovers inside just sitting there all by its lonesome. 

Marvus rests one of his huge hands on your shoulder and pushes you towards those stairs, and you follow him up walking side by side. He asks you about the ride over, and you chatter for a little while about how nice it was, how thankful you are that he wanted to hang out today, and how beautiful and stunning his hive is. You chatter a little more than he does, but he seems like he’s listening intently. He nods along with what you say and laughs where appropriate, and you feel good about this decision. You can hardly believe you deserve to be with him like this, but if he wants you there you’re going to be there.

Marvus opens his room up and pulls you over by the hand to a couch in front of a television. He plops right down on it and pats the cushion beside him, smiling at you while he does so. You join him enthusiastically, setting your backpack on the ground before plopping right down on it too. You bounce a little and Marvus puts his arm around your shoulders to stop you from falling off. He laughs, and you laugh too. His laughter is as clear as a bell, and you find yourself inclined to want to hear it more.

“Woah there, hey,” he laughs, “So… whadda you wanna do?” 

You don’t know. What do you wanna do, Marvus?

“I dunnooooo,” he replies, his face kind of close to yours, “I wuz thinkin we could jus chill here, watch some sweet ass TV and wait for that blazing motherfuck in the sky to fuckin die lmao.” He says lmao out loud, while giving you the sweetest smile you think you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You tell him you’d like that a lot. He woops in response and flicks the television on. He uses the remote, which seems like it might actually be alive, to bring up some sort of multistreaming platform station. Marvus doesn’t ask you what you want to watch, possibly because he realized you don’t know anything about Alternian television, but flicks through a bunch of movies with titles too long for you to quickly read through and he frowns. It seems like he’s having trouble deciding what he wants to watch. You feel another choice coming on. This one feels very important, like your fate in his hive may very well rest on it. 

You could tell him to just put on whatever, or you could ask him about Slam or Get Culled. You’re not sure whether or not you should be using something you got from Zebruh here, but it would at least give Marvus something to talk about. It’d be showing interest in him, which might make this chilling thing a little easier for you too, since you’re still interested in getting to know Marvus a little bit better. You decide to ask him about Slam or Get Culled. 

He looks a little surprised, but not in a bad way, and finds his season. “Yea it’s a lil uh… My early shit wasn’t my best but sure bro,” he says, “How’d you even know about this shizz in da firs place? I thought you didn’t have a TV.” 

You admit you caught an earful all about it from Zebruh and roll your eyes, and he laughs again. One of the best bonding experiences is shitting on someone you hate with someone you like when they also hate that person. You quickly add that you were only really interested in the parts with Marvus in them, and make it a point to look a little shy and bashful when you tell him that. You’re flirting with him pretty explicitly now. 

Marvus catches on and squeezes his hand around your shoulder. “Oh well you know, that’s jus the kind of thing I was expectin from my number one fan.”  
Oh he knows you’re his number one fan, you ask? Hell yeah he knows. You’re the only person he’s ever fake-murdered instead of real-murdered, after all. The program starts up and it’s kind of like a mashup between American Idol and America’s got talent. It feels like it’s been years since you’ve seen those shows, and this makes you almost nostalgic for that trashy reality contest television. Marvus smiles as his younger self pops up on the TV screen. He was wearing different paint back then, different clothes too. He really hammered out his aesthetic in the sweeps since this first aired. 

You two sit there for a couple of hour long episodes before anything interesting really happens. You’re almost kind of absorbed in the binge watching, but Marvus starts getting kind of fidgety. His hand kind of slides down your arm and oh boy, you know what’s coming next. You almost can’t believe that you’re about to get hit on by an alien Juggalo in his own home, but hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into. You lean into him, and it makes him pause. Maybe you shouldn’t have? But before you can think of anything else to do he leans over you and puts his free hand on your left thigh, just near the hem of your dress. 

“Sooo hey,” he breathes into your ear, “You know that pic I sent you earlier?” 

You nod, looking up at his beautiful face. He looks confident and charming. You almost swoon with anticipation.

“You know what that was babe?” You have no fucking idea what that was. You shake your head ‘no’ and tell him you kind of wanted to know but didn’t know how to ask. “Oh I can help with that,” Marvus winks and sticks out his tongue a little and you absolutely know he’s going to help with that. You’re so ready for him.

He gives your thigh a squeeze before he pulls you up into his lap. Unlike with what you’d expect from a human, you don’t feel anything hard on your ass and it only makes you more curious. You feel a little giddy excitement, but mixed in with that you feel nervous. You don’t know what to expect anymore, but maybe he also feels like that. 

Maybe your face betrays your apprehension, but when you look at him he pats your shoulder. “We still Gucci?” 

Oh you’re more than Gucci. You’re Supreme. 

“Okay then, babe,” he cranes his neck over and finally kisses you. Your entire body feels hot instantly. He moves the hand that was on your arm to press down firmly but comfortably on your naval and practically shoves his other hand up your dress. It’s almost too much all at once, and the fact that it’s him only makes you hotter. You don’t think you’ve ever been so spontaneously wet in your entire life. His kiss starts off gentle and slow, closed mouthed and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. 

He quickly gets into something a little more intense once you’ve relaxed against him, coaxing your mouth open with his and just going for it. You can taste the grease paint in your mouth, and it’s terrible, but it feels so right. You moan right into his mouth and resituate yourself to open your legs a little wider. You press yourself backwards against him, looking for something to grind on but not really finding anything. 

You’re really beginning to wonder how this is going to work when he breaks the kiss off for some air and then says, “Hey I know you’re excited, but I like to set the tempo babe.” He’s telling you that he wants to take control of the situation, and it’s really, really hot. You tell him you want the BPM to be a little faster, that you think you really need it to be at this rate, and he takes you a little more seriously. “You want it that bad, huh? Let’s be real for a sec, okay. I’m not sure what to do next, fam.”

That’s okay, you reassure him, you can help. You tug your dress up first so that it’s easier for both of you to get to your junk, and then you go for your underwear. Marvus doesn’t even try to get those off in one piece, tearing them at one of the side seams just to get them out of the way. You’re glad they weren’t important undies. Even if Marvus is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you’d never want to waste important undies on a clown. 

Either way, once they’re off he’s just taking a moment to look at you. You’re kind of embarrassed, but you know you’d be more embarrassed if he wasn’t an alien trying to get his bearings down. You’re flying blind too, after all, and you decide that you want to be flying less blind. You grab his face with your other hand and make him look back at your face so you can tell him you wanna see what he’s got, too. You can tell he doesn’t really deal with people who have opinions about sex that often because he seems surprised and kind of less confident than he did before, but he quickly saves face by kissing you again, and then saying, “Okee.” 

His hands are off of you so that he can shimmy his pants down but boy howdy do you wish they were back on you. You almost grab them and stick them back on your body, but you behave yourself for once instead. While he’s busy fucking with his clothes, you make yourself busy kissing at his neck. It’s nice to be able to use that to get his paint off of your lips because wow that stuff does taste absolutely disgusting, and you can see by the look on his face it’s definitely doing something for him too. That makes you feel really nice, and you think to try sucking on his neck in response. You can hear a faint rumbling in his throat, and it kind of sounds like a swarm of cicadas and a cat had some sort of fucked up baby. It feels so good to make him feel nice, you think to yourself. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but evidently you’re doing something right. 

Once he’s got his pants down by his ankles, he puts his hands right back where they were. You hold on to the one he’s got on your stomach and squeeze it. You place your other hand on top of his and guide it between your legs. You can feel how stupidly wet you are but Marvus doesn’t comment on that. Maybe being a swamp crotch is normal for trolls? You hope not. It seems like it would be really uncomfortable. 

“Oh, so you weird aliens have a hole too!” It seems like one of Marvus’s curiosities has been satisfied, but you wonder what he means by ‘too’. It crosses your mind that neither of you might have anything to stick in this hole of yours, and it kind of disappoints you for a minute, but then you feel something cool and slimy slither up and squeeze around your wrist. You remove yourself from his neck to look down, and you see that weird slimy purple thing from the photo up close and personal. He really did send you a dick pic! The bastard. He kind of laughs lazily, following your train of thought somehow, and pats your belly with his hand. “Kinda wonder how much of this thing you can fit in there, haha,” he muses. 

You also kinda wonder how much of that thing you can fit in you. It looks like it’s kind of thick at the top, and it only gets thicker from there. It tapers to a point and is covered in different bumps and ridges you couldn’t quite see on the picture. It’s also a vivid purple you figure is probably his blood color. That’s an interesting quality, you think. Humans don’t do that, you think. You also think about how weird is it that humans don’t have tentacles for dicks. Does uh, every troll have one of these, you ask him. 

“Yea, babe, they’re uh… Kinda standard here,” he smiles nervously, like he might think you don’t want to keep going. You want to keep going, so you say the only thing you can think of. Nice.

You take the lead again and guide the tenta-bulge thing towards your vag and it takes it from there, squirming its way as far into you as it can go. Marvus doesn’t even have to do anything with his hands. He groans though, husky and low, right in your ear. You can feel him working his way further inside you, and he feels impossibly big. You rock forwards on his crotch, grinding against the tentacle inside of you and pushing him even further in, and you groan pretty damn loudly yourself. Marvus pushes you backwards and swears under his breath. You both reach a point where he can’t fit anything else in you and you can’t really move from all of the pressure where you just pause and breathe for a second. You lean backwards against him as much as you can and look up at the ceiling, sweat running down your lower back. You push all of the air out of your lungs and then inhale again, and you feel like you’re on fire and so, so full all at once. He’s so cold, too, it makes it a little weirder than it already was. You wonder if a lowblood would feel hotter, or if they’re all this cold. 

Marvus is being kind of quiet too, but you glance over at him and his eyes are closed. He looks totally blissed out, actually. That rumbling you heard from before has been steadily getting louder, and it feels so right to just rest your head against his chest and let him purr at you. Then his bulge starts moving again and he whines straight into your ear. The pressure is so intense, but the movement feels incredible. If you somehow manage to get back to Earth, you’d never be able to have this experience again and it makes you kind of sad. You lean up and move his head so you can start kissing him again, and he enthusiastically reciprocates. 

“Nmmmmm babe you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he tells you, making a grab for your currently unoccupied hand and squeezing it. It feels surprisingly intimate for what you two are, and you wonder why he’s being so emotionally vulnerable with you. This was supposed to be a booty call, right? Oh god, are you going to end up as a song lyric? He starts moving more vigorously before you can dwell on that anymore. In effort to get more of him inside you, you feel his bulge twist around and double back on itself, and knowing that he just did that blows your entire mind. He moans when he does it too, deep in the back of his throat. You feel so close, but you know he’s just getting started, so you do your best to hold it back. You can hold out for him. You believe in yourself. 

After what feels like forever you bottom out on his bulge and he settles back down for another breather. You’ve never taken anything that big before. You’re kind of getting overwhelmed when you think about it, but then Marvus kisses you again and you feel like you could do anything for him. His bulge twists around itself inside of you, and you can feel every millimeter of friction. It’s kind of weird and fucked up, but you swear it doesn’t feel as cold as it did at first. Your body must be giving him some heat. You wonder how that must feel. You still feel like you’re on fire, like your entire lower body is a slip-n-slide, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He’s breathing kind of heavily now, and you think he might be getting close. You tell him you’re kind of having a hard time stopping yourself from finishing, and he stops for a moment to reach behind the couch for something. He pulls out a bucket, and then looks at you like you’re supposed to know what to do with it, but quickly realizes you probably have no idea what you’re doing and makes up an improvised plan. He scoots to the edge of the couch and tries to position the two of you over the bucket as much as he can. You wonder why. Maybe they collect cum for some reason? That would be really fucking weird, but hey, it’s aliens. You can’t judge em. 

You two start working with the new position and get back into a rhythm, him twisting around inside of you and you grinding down on his hips to push him deeper. You end up quickly back where you were, almost in agony with how good everything feels, and in the heat of the moment you lean back and steady yourself with your hand on his horn. You’re a little sweaty, so it slides down when you grab him, and he sounds like he just choked on his own breath. That pushes you over and you shudder violently against him, moaning his name. You’re almost crying, that’s how good it feels. You then feel what you can only think of as an explosion between your legs, like someone popped a water balloon inside of you, and you can feel his cold, slimy genetic material gush out of you. Some of it makes it into the bucket, but not all of it. It’s splattered all over his legs and your thighs. It kind of reminds you of that time you spontaneously pissed yourself in front of him, and that thought strangely doesn’t disgust you anymore. 

You let go of his horn just in case it’s sensitive, and instead clutch the back of his head while you kiss him. You can feel his bulge untangling inside of you and exiting, and it hurts a lot. You think you might have overdone it with this just a little. You might be sore for a couple of nights, but you’re still not over how glad you were that you took him up on this offer. You mumble his name against his lips and give him one last good kiss before you try to stand up, but he stops you from getting up immediately. 

“Hey, wait bro,” he says, “lemme just-“ he picks you up again and helps you get your legs closed. You sneak a look at where you were sitting and it looks like someone massacred him, and your mind immediately jumps to how praying mantises eat the males when they’re done with them. You wonder briefly if he’s expecting you to eat him, but you don’t ask him that. The moment passes and everything seems fine. You pull your dress back down, kind of disappointed that it wasn’t ruined by the whole experience.

“I’m jus gonna uhh… go to the bathroom and clean myself off now, yeah?” he tells you, and he kisses you on the forehead before setting you down on the couch again and leaving. You hear a shower running from somewhere on this floor before your mind just blisses the fuck out, and you fall asleep to the sound of some mediocre clown rapper getting decapitated in the background. 

You wake up at sunset that night on a different couch but in the same room you fell asleep in. He’s got you settled against his chest, and his hair is covering up his face a little. The paint is smeared, no doubt all over your face, and you wonder just how many people get to see him like this. You consider yourself one of the lucky few and smile, having decided that you probably made a good decision.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to both of my roommates for putting up with me sending them excerpts from this when I wrote something that made me laugh too hard to keep it to myself, and for everyone who beta-read it for me.
> 
> ETA: Why the Fuck does this have over 2,000 hits... Thank you so much for reading!


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